


Legacies

by OnceUponAPemberlyDream



Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cousins, F/M, Family, Friendship, Headcanon, Not romance between Sharon and Antoine, best friend - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponAPemberlyDream/pseuds/OnceUponAPemberlyDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The legacy of SHIELD lives on in each individual who chose SHIELD over Hydra. But the legacy of the ideas on which SHIELD was built, the memories of those who created SHIELD are carried by two people more than others. The legacy of the Howling Commandos lives on in Antoine Triplett while the weight of the war's greatest unsung hero Peggy Carter is carried by Sharon Carter, who bares the same code name in honor of her aunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Innocence of Childhood Games

The grass scratched the delicate skin of the young girl’s as she laid half-raised on the rock in her aunt’s garden, the wooden toy gun in front of her as the echoes of the boys echoed through the gardens. She wanted to play her hero, the one sitting across the lawn whose hand was grasped gently in the hand of a smiling man uttering soft french words of love and admiration, causing the corners of her lips lifted, revealing wrinkles, lines that reflected countless years of adventures, love, and loss. She wanted to be the one with her hair curled up, skirt flaring as she spun around taking out the enemies with invisible bullets, blonde hair flowing in the corners of light brown eyes that sparkled as she took one down, preparing to tackle the two that would take their place.

That wasn’t good enough for her cousins, the boys who muttered about true heros were one broken free from the cells by the super soldier that marked faded trading cards in the boxes hidden away by her uncle, who smiled softly and responded that they hid the cards to protect them, that what children saw as toys, playthings were pieces of them, memories they carry with them as they wake to spend another day working towards a brighter day when she climbed onto of her cousin, who sat next to his grandfather, her favorite uncle, begging for stories of the days spent howling in the forests against the flames of burning bases. The others wanted to play that stories the books tell about the soldier and his crew so she is assigned to play the guardian, the man who was always important to the hero of the story while the cousin she spent her time with is front and center, marching forth, leading the charges against the enemies while the other boys marched on, fingers pointed toward each other, chirping bang! as they jerked back while others fall at their feet. Some girls joined in the falling but most were content to sit by and play command center while tapping porcelain tea cups filled with punch. She laid on the sideline, pointed towards the enemies, waiting for her chance to protect and serve.

Later, once the others fall away, younger cousins forced into the spare rooms for naps while the others find other activities to occupy their time. The blonde girl sat on the grass, green staining the faint brown skirt as she listened to her aunt and uncle telling stories of how they met in a camp in the midst of a great war, how they respected and grew to be friends through the haze of war and grew to know each other, how they were there for each other in through every loss in the war and those that came after as the years passed with each calendar turn.

“Sharon,” the whisper reached her ears. Turning, Sharon saw the small black boy crouching in the hedges that separated the front yard and the back. His dark brown eyes sparkled as his lips curved up, revealing bright white teeth. His hand reached out of the bushes, revealing a black toy gun. “Want to play with your favorite cousin?”

“Antoine!” Sharon jumped up and grabbed the small toy. “Of course I do!” She smiled at the boy as he tripped out from the bushes. “Only if I get to be Agent Peggy Carter!”

“As if there is anyone else for you to play,” Antoine smirked as he came to stand next to Sharon. “Of course that just means I can get to be grandpa.” He puffed out his chest and smiled at her. “Howling Commando agent Gabe Jones reporting for duty Agent Carter!” With a quick salute, Antoine smiled as his grandfather’s laugh floated through the yard at the mention of his name.

“Alright Jones, follow me. It’s time for our briefing.” Sharon turned away with a squeal and started running towards the swings across the yard. Antoine took after her, laughing.

A secret smile spread across the older woman’s face as she watched her grandson throw his back against the little girl’s as the imagined enemies of their innocent childhood games grown from the demons of her past who faced her with eyes determined to end her. Her eyes misted for each battle she won, each war she waged against an unknown or impossible enemy, each loss she endured was worth it for the life she built with the man beside her, whose hand grasped hers tightly through it all, through every loss or every comment about how unnatural their love was, how much they could not love each other based on society’s accepted norms, whose hand tightened as they watched all they fought for, all the good they hoped to inspire shine in the eyes of two children who were family no matter what the world would tell them when the innocence started to dim. No matter what, no matter how the world would muck itself up in the end, Peggy Carter ears would always echo with the voices of Sharon and Antoine promising to be each other’s shield against the unknown darkness lurking in the shadows, intertwining with the words of love and support muttered in foreign tongues in Gabe’s fading voice.


	2. A Toast: Drabble

“You know,” Sharon sat down, holding a bottle in front of Antoine’s face. “As happy as I am for you, it’s going to suck not being able to spar with you. After all, who else I am going to tease when they are laying face down on the mat?”

“I think you’ll find someway to go on,” teased Antoine, his lips curling up as he reached for the beer. He moved towards the left, leaving space for Sharon to join him on the swing as he opened the bottle. “You kicked my butt as kids and you’ll continue to kick butt as you find new partners. Just don’t forget that I’m not the only one in this conversation who ended up laying on their backs, wheezing like a deflated balloon.”

“Don’t forget who kept the spotlight of you during the academy!” Sharon stuck out her tongue as she smacked him on the back of the head lightly. “You better watch who you are talking to or I’ll have to tell your new partner, Dan, all about how you used to sneak into Uncle Gabe’s closet, try on his clothes, and start howling at the top of your lungs.”

“Says the girl who had an entire trunk full of Grandma Peggy’s old uniforms from the SSR at the end of her bed so she could play dress up until she was 10,” Antoine countered, lightly pushing Sharon as he brought his beer his mouth to take a sip. Sharon laughed, unscrewing her own bottle before raising it towards Antoine.

“To my favorite cousin who will carry on the legacy of those who raised us on the field,” Sharon toasted.

“To my favorite cousin who chooses to stay at headquarters to keep close to our own hero while honoring the legacy her own way,” Antoine remarked as he brought his bottle up, touching the neck of the bottle to Sharon'S. _Clink_. Both the people on the porch bench laughed as they took sips of their drinks.“So about your new neighbor……” 


End file.
